Lewis Hamilton has spent his entire rookie season on the podium, but when he finally broke through with a victory at the Canadian Grand Prix, I said aloud that we could be seeing the beginning of something special.
A week later, when Hamilton won the U.S. Grand Prix from the pole, I became sure that we have seen the beginning of something very special for Formula One, especially in North America.
Finally, there is a spark of interest in the series on these shores that has not existed since American Michael Andretti drove for McLaren in 1993, and maybe since Canadian Jacques Villeneuve made a spectacular debut with Williams in 1996, winning four races.
Here is Hamilton, at the top of his sport at age 22 and well on his way to a world championship. He got there without a diversity program to spark his interest or groom his considerable talent.
There is an obvious comparison — given Hamilton’s marketable good looks, his ease in the eye of a crushing storm of media attention and his multi-ethnic background — to Tiger Woods.
Woods didn’t save professional golf, but he doggone sure made it a more lucrative field of endeavor for a lot of people, from PGA Tour pros to club salesmen to sports shrinks and swing doctors.
And that’s what Hamilton can do for Formula One, where the series needs it the most — in the U.S. and Canada.
Bernie Ecclestone went on the record last week and said that Formula One didn’t need America. Maybe. Maybe not. But it certainly wants the keys to America’s marketing vaults. Besides, Ecclestone was entering negotiations with Tony George on a new deal to keep the U.S. Grand Prix at the famed Indianapolis Motor Speedway. He is too astute a businessman to say anything that would make the price go up, so he at least verbally treats America nonchalantly.
But now that F-1 finally has something to market in Hamilton, it must come back. It has a star to sell who is unlike any of the others in its long, multi-lingual record book.
Hamilton not only could be the next big thing, he is the next big thing.
When Michael Schumacher was dominant in a Ferrari, he certainly had the respect of the American road-racing crowd, but he was never embraced the way Hamilton was at Indianapolis this past weekend.
Perhaps it is our fatal flaw, but we Americans enjoy a little glitz with our grit.
Hamilton, it appears, has plenty of both.
He talks like us — only with a British accent that makes him sound cool — like James Bond cool.
And when teammate Fernando Alonso, who was the team’s No. 1 driver until, say, a week ago, tried to pressure the rookie into making mistakes along the turns of Indy’s 2.605-mile road course, it didn’t happen. Hamilton seemed to hit every mark, bobbling only once or twice. Finally, it was Alonso who seemed rattled. He made the errors, pressing to keep up with the rookie.
He was not afraid to smile, or celebrate on the podium while remembering to point at his dad on Father’s Day, sharing the moment with the man instrumental to getting him there.
It seemed oddly familiar, not just the champagne shower and the smiles from the podium, but the moment.
I couldn’t help but think of the way  Woods used to share those kinds of hugs with his father, Earl, after a victory at one of golf’s majors.
Like Woods’s first Masters title, this one was big. The emotion was heartfelt. It was real.
And it vaulted Hamilton into the American sports consciousness.
For Hamilton — and Formula One — there’s no better place for him to be.